One of the privileges of working as a film critic is getting to speak with the filmmakers, actors, and writers themselves. This can be fascinating in all sorts of ways -- one actress was so presumptive and vain, I immediately switched all my questions to avoid the subject of her, just to see what would happen -- but it also never fails to be illuminating.
True, when you're speaking with an actor on a press junket who's been asked variations of the same questions for eight straight hours, you might not get much of a reply beyond a canned response and a shrug, but there are plenty of moments when the subject chooses to reveal to you a small piece of his life, beyond the surface schmooze, and the effect can be mesmerizing. Over the years, I've had many such encounters with film people. Here are just a few of the responses, moments, or mishaps that stand out to me over the course of a couple of decades in the biz.
Making Ray Liotta annoyed: I had the opportunity to speak with Liotta at my first paper, the Tucson Weekly, for his film Turbulence, an idiotic action flick where he played a scenery-huffing psychopath who somehow manages to take control of a 747. He had just explained to me how he had been a jock at his high school in New Jersey, and must have somehow sensed that had I known him then he would have tried to stuff me in a locker. At one point, he accused me of not liking any action movies, because he had gotten me to admit I hadn't really liked his movie terribly much (a rookie mistake). Later, when I suggested to the Goodfellas and Unlawful Entry actor that perhaps he showed an affinity for those types of dangerous characters, he took umbrage at my apparent shortchanging of his career. He pointed out to me that he had in fact also performed in different types of films such as Operation Dumbo Drop (oddly true). He then gave me a sneering laugh over the phone and accused me of not doing my homework on him (likely also true).
Commiserating about exes with Miranda July: In town to support her curiously fascinating film The Future, July and I met in the lobby of a posh hotel and spent the next 45 minutes talking about the film, heartbreak, and the ways her character sort of reminded me of a significant ex from my past. Unsurprisingly, the talented writer/director took it all in stride. Of that character, who flees a stable relationship into a kind of suggested possible future where she's with someone completely different for no other reason than a desire to test out an utterly alternate life, July explained "There are some women who will know exactly what that is, but only those women will not be scratching their heads. They'll feel X-rayed."
Speaking with Matthew McConaughey on the eve of his McConaissance: Predictably enough, one of my prepared questions was about how his years lost in the wilderness of bad rom-coms and failed melodramas had suddenly left him with a clean slate as far as public perception went, and that he was now free to pursue anything he wanted, such as Dallas Buyers Club, the film he was there to talk about. When asked what he had learned about himself, he smiled his McConaughey smile and said, "There's still so much deeper and further that man can go. The body is sometimes more resilient than we give it credit for, and so is the mind. If I can get something where it's a role like this, a full-on immersion, to an adventure of a place where I don't have to look in the rearview mirror and can put the blinders on for six months, that's ideally fun. 'Don't act like the guy, go be the guy.'"
Five months later, he was onstage at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles, accepting his best actor Oscar in a memorably free-associative acceptance speech.
Being greatly impressed by the dedication of Nick Frost: As I mentioned in the opening, it's very common to come to an actor doing a press day when they are utterly sick of talking about themselves and their damn movie, and just want it to be over already. But not Frost, who was promoting his dance comedy Cuban Fury. He explained that he made it a point to treat each interview with respect as a unique thing and one that got his full attention. He had no sympathy for actors who don't take this part of their gig seriously: "I hate f** actors moaning about being tired, because no one should. Sorry, that's another thing I get moody about. They've been paid a lot of money to come."
Irritating Lone Scherfig: Another mistake I had to learn the hard way: Never assume that a character who annoys the hell out of you in a movie is meant to garner that reaction. When I suggested to the Danish director that the male protagonist (played by Jim Sturgess) in the unconvincing One Day was intentionally insufferable, she bristled and told me not only was the character "a sweetheart," he also reminded her of her own son. Needless to say, she wrapped it up with me about 30 seconds later.
Getting totally besotted with Brit Marling: It's hardly a secret, but if you ever want a member of the media to be on your side, all you have to do is make them feel like they're your pal, and take their ideas seriously (a huge reason why Brett Favre got such a long, free pass from the press). The lovely and intelligent (see, there I go again) actress was warm and seemingly interested in everything I had to say about her debut film Another Earth, but she really won me over for life when I asked her about a character nuance, and she responded: "I'm so surprised that nobody has ever asked that before because it's a really good question. Like I'm not even sure I should answer it because it's so good."
I noted pretty much all the subsequent press coverage about her was equally glowing. Well played, Ms. Marling.
Getting totally besotted with Eddie Redmayne: As Marling demonstrated, it is definitely in an actor's best interest to be charming to the swarming media hordes, but very often this can come across as hollow, like a concierge greeting you in a hotel lobby. Eddie Redmayne, whom I interviewed for his astonishing work in The Theory of Everything (for which he eventually won a best actor Oscar), was genuinely humble, self-effacing, and seemed very, very happy that we were there at all. The group of critics around this roundtable were among the first to see the film, and as we offered (legitimate) praise for it and for his performance, he seemed genuinely moved by our approval. "Oh, thank you, thank you so much. My God, I can't tell you how scary it is. That's very kind." He had us at the first "thank you."
Being surprised by Paul Giamatti: Every so often, a publicist will get their wires crossed with the press. Preparing for a phone interview with whom I had been told was going to be director Tom McCarthy for Win Win, I had a bunch of questions all lined up for him, but was shocked to find out the interview was actually with both McCarthy and the film's star, Giamatti, a man not known to suffer fools. Fortunately, my confusion seemed to amuse him (but only just). When I asked to clarify with whom it was I was speaking to he said, "Paul Giamatti -- if that's OK with you."
Taking a photo with Tom Hanks: I pull this excerpt from my blog about the experience of interviewing Hanks (for the thoroughly horrendous Larry Crowne, alas), and the unexpected suggestion he made at the end, when he asked if I wanted a picture with him for posterity:
"On the one hand, there's a pretty significant amount of hubris there. On the other, he's absolutely right, at least he would be 99 percent of the time. I've been doing this a long while, I guess, and have written up lots of people, but no one generated the interest in my friends and family as much as Tom Hanks. You could read it as arrogance, or you could read it as a kind gesture to avoid the awkwardness of you having to ask for such a thing. Of course, once proffered, there was no way I could refuse. And you know what? I probably will have the picture framed and put up somewhere. If my father had a picture of him sitting next to Humphrey Bogart or Peter Sellers, I would think it was the coolest shot of him of all time. It's just possible my daughter will feel the same."
Experiencing an earthquake with Elizabeth Olsen: I doubt any interview I ever do will have a stranger moment than when I was interviewing Elizabeth Olsen for the beguiling Martha Marcy May Marlene in a Philadelphia hotel, and the walls began to shimmer. Again, an excerpt from my blog: "The 22-year-old California native instantly leapt up as soon as the first tremors hit. "That's an earthquake," she informed director Sean Durkin and me as the two of us were sitting there in blithe ignorance. She moved nervously over to the doors as if she might bolt the premises.
"Shouldn't we be in a doorway or something?" Durkin offered.
"No," she said, "that's a myth."
Meanwhile, I looked out the window from the second floor of our Philadelphia hotel and thought everyone walking up and down the street seemed completely normal, which I announced to the two of them. I assumed it was something in the hotel itself (though, in retrospect, I have no idea what might make the entire place shake like that unless a tank was rolling through it, which should have probably given me equal pause), but, at the end of the interview, the publicist told us it was very much for real. To her continued credit, Olsen didn't lord it over us that she was right. I suppose she really didn't have to.
Piers Marchant is a Philadelphia-based critic who regularly contributes to these pages.
MovieStyle on 10/28/2016